The brave, the few
by Ghost Writer no. 3
Summary: A one shot descritive. Please enjoy.


See, I was quite content with my obsession with Kingdom Hearts. Then they showed the pictures of Terra in Dissidia as well as all the character interacting, so now I'm officially excited about this thing. Seriously, I believe this game can do no wrong to me now. Even if it is total crap. I wanted to write something pretty and epic, so this was born after watching some "full roster" videos on you tube.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dissidia nor the characters in it.

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The ground under them felt cool to the touch, yet the air around them danced with heat. Behind and above held a holy light while in front and below burned a reddish glow. They knew what was to come, but they did not back down.

* * *

Near the front stood the true one. The directed vessel of the Goddess. He looked to be every part of the hero. A knight in shined armor, the man stared serious ahead. Eyes of the sky and hair of the stars, everything besides his face was covered in metal or thick leather. On his helm were longed horns, shaped and curved ringing in a reminder of a bull's, but had a length and grace of a unicorn's. On the back of the head protection, an open cone spilled out more neutral, straight hair. On the brow and surrounding the base of the horns were a simple articulate designs, lined with gold and filled out with various shades of blue, even a small gem right near the sections, symbolic of the third eye. In fact, all the armor at one point or another held gold lines and dark, medium, and light azure. His elbows were protected but circled guards lined with thick spikes. Nothing was left to be unsecured: Under heavy boots, under heavy armor, under heavy tassets of yellow, blue, and white, a near ebony-blue bodysuit clung to him as if it was his own set of skin. In one hand, he wiled the might Excalibur, in the other a shield.

A lead for the crystal, possible a lead for them all.

* * *

A second man, who came in focus, was an equally harden man. Perhaps not a stock or as discipline or even as old, but this young man read of danger. This one plays more the scouting look then a knight. His skin was a masked of copper and bricks, his hair colored and shaped and lengthen of goose feathers, except for a long, thin pony-tail to the length of his hip. Covering the mess were colorful rags coming to a red gem in the middle of his forehead, beads jingling off the trimming at the edges of the scarves. His chest was covered in cobalt steel armor, each piece customizes to his form. Small, blue wrist guards were the only covering along his arms. Pastel-blue breaches stretched down his legs to metal knee-guards and a light-blue cloak hung over his shoulder. The man was a living arsenal of all deadly weapons: Dagger with a gold handle hooked on the left ankle, a small shield of silver and with spikes perfect for scratches and punctures placed on the left arm, A red sword with a red sheathe against his left hip, a black hatched set against lower back, with a bow and spear hooked behind his cloak.

Rebellious and dreamer of the "Wild Rose," he'd lend his everything for freedom.

* * *

A child: A boy. He stood with all the warriors. Some were barely adults. But this one here was a child. Perhaps only the age of fourteen seasons. Large, white feathers adorned his helm of red, a silver, metal frame the rest of the helm. Peaking out and brushing it were high strand of wheat hair. Unusual bangs flew away from his face instead of blocking it, giving a clear view of that face: Large, green eyes that shown with bright innocent, a small button-nose, and a cupid-bow mouth. Even though the rest of him was that of a warrior, a little bit of baby-fat clung to his cheeks, giving a cherub impression. Beads of red, blue, and yellow played in his hair. On his frame was red armor. Not as thick and massive as the first one, but more of the form-fitted metal as the second. The boy's, however, was all in a red scheme. The upper half had light red on the outside, darker red to mimic the chest and the abdomen, and blood-red around the abdomen design. Yellow metal highlight ever line of the armor. His legs were encased in large, puffy pants with white boots with red patterns climbing up them like vines.

The youngest of them all, but it spoke volumes of his skill.

* * *

The fourth one was the largest and tallest of the warriors. He was incased in all ebony. From his face helm to his boot was shown nothing of a man; no skin, no hair, no weakness. Even his eyes were guarded by a white, see-thru material that made him look all the more eerie. The face mask mimicked a man and a devil's visage; locks were replaced by spikes, eyes as empty as death, nose and brow structure just there, but never fully formed, and a design in the armor mocking a sneer in the mouth, but even that too was absent in the final forming of the mask. Each joint was adorned with a barb or two, as if the metallic pikes were naturally grown out of the armor. The actual armor itself mimic a man in shape and form, and made the wearer appear naked due to cords of muscles displayed proudly on chest, arms, legs, and thighs. The only apparent architectural decorated on him was a belt with a crest of a blue X. He looked like a demon, with the shape and strength and sleekness the armor portrayed. He looked the trooper with a dark sword was strapped over his back with an equally dark spear in his grasp.

But as known to all of the others, he could easily change from night to day. Pealing under the armor was a man nothing as a demon. Alabaster skin, yet natural dark shading around teal eyes and lips near ebony, almost hinting to something more then human. Though his size appeared to be smaller then the size of the black armor, he was never the less a tall man, the tallest of them all. Starlight hair wisped past his shoulders with violet beads circling his face. A metal band keeps his hair away from his sight. The colors on his plate were blues, silvers, golds, and indigos. All of his body was encased in the decorative armor, from his chest to his feet. The only bare points on the armor were his elbows, freeing the joints for easy use, and his hands to easily grasp his weapon of choice. A dagger hung on his hip on the right, but almost mirror to his dark self, a sword hung along his back. As stated, the handle appeared on his left instead of his right like in his shade armor. The spear in this form was of similar grooves and length, but was mostly a royal blue with gold lines around the wider parts, ending with a red point.

A Dark Knight in the past, a Paladin in the present, both would be used to decide his future.

* * *

A playful man stood next. Compared to most of his other companions, he was on the shorter range of height, yet he was also one of the older men. Different from the four warriors before, his clothes were anything but defensive; the only armor on his body was a stone-encrusted golden shoulder guard over his left shoulder, with parts of the metal wrapping behind the back of his neck to just touch his right shoulder, a few metal bands around his wrist, and his fundamental red sword sheathed and dagger at his side. Everything else was cloth and leather, mostly stained in rich sky color. A small cape stopping at his thighs. He wore a blue tan-top that was tucked into white-and-gray leggings that fit like a second skin. Around his mid-section was bit of blue and golden rod fabric, the previously mentioned dagger hanging from a leather belt. The leggings fitted right into thick, leather boots. His wrists were covered in blue fabric, staying place due to the loop between his index and middle finger on each hand. His skin was light, with shagging, brown hair with identical large, doe eyes and a circlet hanging over the forehead.

He may look unimpressive, but when one can wield anything, what else does one need?

* * *

The next warrior to step forward was a unique among the group: A beauty; petite against strong shoulders, trained muscles, and broad armor. This ruby among metal and leather, this bloomed flower growing on a bleak battlefield held herself just as tall and proud as those already around her. She wore a garment both simple and complex: A red outfit wrapped perfect around her chest and midsection that extended down to her thighs. Her shoulders were bare, but arm wraps of the same fabric adored her arms from the edges of her shoulders to the edges of her wrists. Scarves of crème-colors and lavender and various other silks wrapped around her hip, like a layer of a skirt. Embroiled white tights covered her legs as they lead straight into red boots of more scarlet material. The curls not held back in a high pony-tail danced around her face, the ribbon itself slightly blowing in the wind. With porcelain skin, her face held a doll-like quality to it, if not for the sadness that marred her red lips and eyes with just a glare of something much more hidden below the surface.

But here she stood and here she would stand.

* * *

Average height, average size, and once an average purpose; the only three aspects of the next soul that was average. Striking blond-hair stood up in various directions, not a single strand actually flowing down. Eerie, glowing sapphire eyes stared ahead. A black, sleeveless turtleneck stitched to have the look of lines running vertically was tucked into pants held up by a leather belt wrapped over and under several pieces of a waist guard and leather suspenders. Equally black, baggy pants tucked into a sturdy set of shiny black-leather military boots. A studded shoulder guard protected his left shoulder while his was flanked by his impressive Buster Sword, a weapon that could be compared to the horse killing swords of the past. His wrist were protected by two different guards; his right was a simply wrap of leather fabric that started near his elbow and ended somewhere inside his fingerless gloves. His left guard lacked the leather fabric; instead, a white bandaged was seen only a hair under steel bands, shaped to have a tight fit around his wrist, leading to another glove. His frame was thin and taunt; a wound rubber-band waiting to snap.

Driven by guilt, hoping to find his path.

* * *

A bomber jacket; Just a leather bomber with white fur seamed along the collar. He may have been considered rugged if not for his age; just a hair past seventeen. His face was equally as young; no hard edges, except incredibly cold blue-gray eyes that took everything in and judged within moments. Dark-brown hair, cut appropriate length to not be harmful in combat, did nothing to cover an angry scar running down the middle of his forehead to his nose. It tilted from right down left. Underneath the jacket was a clean, white shirt. In front of it hung the symbol Lionheart, his symbol. The lion appeared again on him; his main belt buckle was a silver lion head. Several worn leather belts tied around black jeans. Around the sides of his waist, hiding pockets and whatever could be clipped under the sides of the pants and belt. On the side was a black guard of fabric, conveniently on the side where three belts wrapped around his legs, also a nice place to store something deadly. The final touching were black gloves and black boots, both made of leather with the unique Gun-blade strapped over his shoulder as he stared.

The usual lone wolf, but he was a part of something bigger.

* * *

The prehensile tail hung loosely behind him. The tail's color matched the curtain hair on his head, which also ended in a tail; pony tail. A small man-child, with mischief cerulean eyes but now quite serious, gazed with the others to the distance. His green vest was strapped with belts, as if they were some sort of home-made sleeves. A cheerful ascot hung in front of it, and a white shirt peaking out from underneath the small vest with a collar and slack of clothing. His waist held belts. And not like the others, oh no, he had one belt hugging his hips, with other belts tied loosely around it and to other belts hanging loosely around below it, as well as a strap or two hooked on holes in the belt. Two sheathes dropped from the main belt, hanging his daggers, the weapons slightly dropping back and forth at each movement. Blue jeans were tucked inside knee-high metal boots with similar style gloves on his hand, accented by big, blue cuffs. His frame was small, lithe; nature's own acrobatic, especially with the extra limb hang from his backside. All perfect for flips and volts and having an extra grip in touch situations.

It was not quite his fault; this romantic could not resist a plea from a lady.

* * *

And the last man of the ten. Dirty-blond hair, cut short to keep it out of his dark blue eyes. His whole attired seemed as if he threw it together in haste and only had some of the pieces to it. He wore mostly over his body was what could have been a black jacket. Maybe. It was black and zipped up, but started at his mid section and ended to his thighs, the remaining space on top held up by suspenders. His pants were long shorts with frayed ends, but one leg still had the piece going past his knees, with his symbol burnt on red. On the other leg, however, it looked like it was even more rip to shreds, with the hint of a red body suit peaking out below it. He did not have a shirt, just yellow short sleeves. On one hand was a black glove, the other not only had a black shoulder pad but a long wrist and arm guard. The only item of garment that matched was his shoes: Black shoes with black shocks, with black wraps underneath. His body was built from muscles not trained by swords; pure water carved the architecture. Around his neck was a chain. Attached to that chain was a symbol, his and his old man's.

A player created from a dream, from a world perhaps not his, but had people who he cared about.

* * *

Ten warriors, ten different worlds, ten different battles. The core of this battle, even if everyone had a personal goal, this was a battle of balance.

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This thing was started when Terra and Cloud were announced, but now it's been released in Japan, so everyone pretty much knows everything. All the good fans have seen what it is. When I started this, I wanted to write something beautiful. I hope everyone finds this as such. I've been writing bits and pieces for a while. It's just simple thing. I apologies how some heroes received better descriptions then others, mainly for the armored heroes. I love them a lot, but it's really hard to describe all the details. I gave everyone over ten lines but not beyond eleven lines on a six inch border in Times New Roman at 10 size. I based all heights on how they look in the game, not their stats listened in various places.


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